


Prosthetic

by thetrueenemyofhumanity



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amputation, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 04:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15856113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetrueenemyofhumanity/pseuds/thetrueenemyofhumanity
Summary: Request: "Could you do brigitte (having to tell her s/o that they need a prosthetic but instead of being sad they're excited?"





	Prosthetic

“You keep pacing like that and you’ll wear out the floor,” Reinhardt told Brigitte. His large from was slumped in the small med bay seat and the dark bags that hung under his eyes testified that days without sleep had taken a heavy toll.

“Oh I’m sorry I’m not making the floor a priority here!” she snapped. As soon as the words had left her mouth she immediately regretted lashing out. “I’m sorry, Rein. I didn’t mean to-“

“Apology accepted,” he assured her, holding up a hand to stop her racing mouth, “You are tired and very very emotional. I understand.”

“It’s just… How can you be so…calm?!”

“Because I have faith. Faith that Angela will heal her and faith that (Y/N) is strong enough to pull through this,” he replied gently.

Brigitte finally took a seat beside Reinhardt and rested her tired head in her hands. She was still covered in dust and ash from when she had pulled you from where you were pinned beneath the rubble. It felt like an eternity ago but that image of your bloodied and broken body burned at the forefront of her mind since. Her head sprung back up at the sound of heels rushing down the hall. Angela skidded to a halt in front of them, looking as tired as Brigitte felt. Brigitte didn’t even wait for Angela to update her on your condition before she took off sprinting down the hall, the doctor’s protests falling on dear ears. You practically jumped out of your skin when she burst through the door, breathless and filthy.

“You’re alive… You’re okay!” she panted

“Yep! Well, 99% of me,” you told her, waving with what was now a stump, hand totally removed. Brigitte gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth to hold in an explicative. You could see her struggle to find words of consolation and you put her out of her misery. “Brigitte, I’m fine. If it weren’t for you I’d have lost a lot more than a hand. I owe you my life.”

“But if I were quicker you-“

“If I hadn’t had run into a burning building the mission wouldn’t have gone to shit. It was my decision and I need to live with it. But the main issue is…well…it was my dominant hand so you’ll need to draw up the plans for my new arm all by yourself.”

“You-you want me to make you a new arm?! I don’t know what to say, I mean I can build a jetpack or a shield but an arm? I don’t think-“

“Brigitte!” you interrupted with a small laugh, “Take a deep breath. In….and out. There’s no one I trust with my limbs other than you. However I do have two requests.”

“You want it to turn into a gun?” she questioned, her face lighting up a little.

“What?! No! Well…actually maybe. But first thing’s first, it has to be stylish. Second; it has to be strong enough to take down Rein in arm wrestling.”

“Well,” Brigitte hummed, the mattress dipping slightly as she sat on the edge of it and resting a hand on your leg, “He always does like to boast that he’s stronger than the two of us combined. Time for the old man to be proven wrong.”


End file.
